Friday, November 15, 2013

Proverbs 31:26-31 "She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue. She watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness... Many woman do noble things, but you surpass them all." Charm is deceptive , and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised. Give her the reward she has earned, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.

I write a lot about my dad. A lot of my poems and stories for college classes were about him and a lot of my blogs are about him. He is cool and can build or fix anything and he rides those Lance Armstrong ( is that still a good way to explain it?) kind of bikes and is really fast and he's a super good runner which is something I wish I was. Basically, I think my dad is awesome, and just something about the fact that he is my Dad makes him easy to write about. All those times I needed a subject for my stories and it ended up being my dad... Just another way he quietly saved the day.

But I have a mom too. And she, too, is awesome. So now that I am in grad school and trying to be the kind of teacher my mom has been for a long time, I find myself wondering why I don't write more about her. I think of all the times I've tried to, I've started to, but have never succeeded. Why? Why can't I write about my mom?

Dads, my Dad, is a hero. He steps in and saves the day. If something is broken, be it my heart in high school or college, my bike, my sink, whatever, Dad can handle it. Once, my German Shepherd got her foot stuck in a metal bar. She cried and cried, but when my Dad got to her, she stopped crying. She knew he was going to rescue her. It's just the Dadness in him. It's easy to write about because it's dramatic and life changing.

My mom is not a hero. What I mean by that, is my mom doesn't save the day. Instead, she carries on the day. If my car broke down somewhere, I wouldn't call my mom first, but when I can't decide between blue or black, when I need a second opinion, when my feelings are hurt or I'm defeated or discouraged, when I'm excited and happy and things are great, when I'm not sure what something means or how it works, or when I need to know how to be a better wife, friend, sister, or woman of The Lord, my mom has those answers.

My mom counsels me. She explains things to me. She teaches me. She prays for me, cares for me, and brings me soup and apple juice when I am sick. And the reason I can't write about her is because she is me. When I don't know what to do or say or think, it's my mom that shows me. Without her, I wouldn't be exactly who I am. And if you're thinking, "Well what happens when your mom isn't around anymore? Could you live without her?" The answer is no. I couldn't live without my mother because she is in the way I think and act and the decisions I make. She is in the way I cook and decorate and write. My mother is in the way I dress and speak and look and in my fine hair, and even in the way I don't care for laundry and crave a good love story or book.

So I can't write about her. I can't create a story about my mother because everything I write, everything I create, is about my mother, even when the subject is my Dad or anything else it might be. I am my mother. And what a wonderful, miraculous thing to be.